


No Comfort

by tielan



Category: Terminator (Movies), Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003)
Genre: F/M, Judgement Day, Missing Scene, Post-Movie(s), relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, lying in the dark with the weight of a mountain above her, Kate wonders if she should resent that he didn’t try to be kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yukito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukito/gifts).



The first night, she cries in his arms. For Scott, for her father, for the world. A world – their world – has just died. Gone in the flick of a switch, in the gleam of a scarlet eye. And he holds her, cradles her and says nothing – not even words of comfort. Later, lying in the dark with the weight of a mountain above her, Kate wonders if she should resent that he didn’t try to be kind.

The next morning, as he moves about the facility, mapping out rooms, taking stock of what they have, talking with the scattered and scared remnants of America, Canada, Mexico, she realises that John Connor has no comfort in him.

“Look,” he explains to a particularly obstreperous guy up in Oregon. “Skynet knows what we know. Everything that was digitised and recorded in the last ten, fifteen years. Anything that’s not off the grid. And they’ll be coming for us – all of us. Anyone who they think is a threat to them.”

“He won’t listen,” Kate says, writing down an inventory of what they have while the guy rants himself out about ‘the government’ and ‘hiding weapons caches’ and ‘the commie liberals bringing this nation down’. “He’s too caught up in his own reality. A lot of people will be. We cling to what we know.”

John makes a noise somewhere between a snort and a snarl. “This _is_ the only thing I’ve ever known.”

* * *

They share a bed. There are practicalities to it – it’s cold under the mountain, and they don’t have the power to maintain separate quarters. And something in them knows they should be at hand to each other, just in case.

But it’s weird – at least to Kate.

She and Scott had lived together for a year before deciding to get married. And Scott was not the cuddling type in sleep, so she got used to having someone else in the bed but not having them sleep up against her.

However, at Crystal Peak, more nights than not, Kate wakes in the very early morning to find herself right up next to the wall, with John sleeping against her back. Not quite spooning – he has some boundaries – but close enough that she can feel the warmth of his skin.

Is it awkward with what the Terminator said about them, about their future? Oh, yes. It’s awkward. Even if he always gets up before Kate even contemplates moving, it lingers in the air between them, unspoken and unacknowledged, but there. An elephant in the bunker.

Not that they’ll be in the bunker long.

“We can’t stay here long,” John says early on. “The machines know where we are, and they’ll come looking.”

“How long do we have?”

He shrugs. “Depends how long it takes them to start putting human-model Terminators together. I don’t know how much information the TX gave Skynet while it was here—”

“I would’ve thought sending information from the future was cheating.”

John looks over at her, and smiles – just a flicker of humour. “My father came from the future, too, you know.”

Kate snorts. “So you’re the ultimate cheat.”

“I’m a cheat?”

Even with his frown, it takes her a moment to realise that with the life John’s lived he won’t know much about computer games or game play. Admittedly, she only knew because Scott had friends who were into that kind of thing. “It’s a shortcut – in a computer game. They call it a ‘cheat’ because it’s not the official way of doing it.”

“A cheat. That figures.” He stares down at the map where they’re cataloguing the caches they’ve located throughout the region. “Well, we can’t stay here very long. Long enough to get a game plan working. Then we’re out of here.”

With the need for them to move on planted in her head, Kate is more prepared to do the training John requires of her. The jogging, the weights, the weapons training. Actually, she doesn’t need the weapons training quite so much. She learned guns – and the necessary respect for them – at a very young age.

She can shoot better than John.

He doesn’t mind it. He just stares at her outline, every shot right where she wanted it once she has the range and the sighting, and shakes his head. “My mother would’ve liked you.”

* * *

Contact is dangerous over the lines. Skynet is watching them.

As the days go by, their preparations become more urgent, their plans pared down to the bare bones. They’ve made contact with small cells of humans, have a plan for where they’re going. They’ve made contact with at least one military base, and the staff sergeant left in charge worked with her dad for many years and is known to her.

“That was lucky,” she says when they end the call.

John looks grave. “You know we’re going to survive on luck and coincidence, don’t you?”

They have weapons, ammunitions, and supplies – even if the food isn’t particularly good. Kate’s done some training to live off the land, but she doesn’t have the kind of survival skills John does.

She wasn’t trained up by her dad to be the leader of the human race in the coming apocalypse.

It sounds ridiculous when she thinks about it. If she lets herself think about it. Which she doesn’t. At least, not when they’re busy getting things ready for their departure. Until the night before they’re due to leave – their packs packed, their plans laid out. They have a backup plan, and a secondary backup plan, and a plan for if they get separated.

Sitting in the ‘lounge’ area, listening to John mutter to himself as he checks and double-checks what they’ve got, Kate suddenly feels the awful weight of what they’re about to do.

They’ll run until they find a hiding spot, gather and regroup. They’ll dig holes and stash supplies, people, weapons, technology, until they have to move on again. They’ll turn and fight when they have to, attack when they can, defend, defend, defend, and hope the fragile futures they’ve been promised will hold through the mud and blood of the war against the machines.

This is the start of it – the end of safety and security and peace.

“Hey.” John’s kneeling in front of her suddenly, his hands on hers. Warm hands, rough-palmed, human touch. “Hey, Kate. It’s okay.”

She didn’t realise she was shaking until his grip anchored her. She didn’t realise she was crying until the tears dripped on her hands. She doesn’t realise she’s pulled him in until he’s sitting on the lounge and she’s in his lap, her arms around him, her face in his shoulder as she cries in his arms like she did the first night.

And John holds her, cradles her, his hands running up and down her arm, up and down her spine, attempting comfort.

It’s not the comfort she wants.

He seems surprised when she angles her face towards his, when her mouth closes over his – frozen with an uncertainty that seems uncharacteristic. There’s none of the boldness she remembers in Kripke’s basement – the hands that reached for her, confident and brash.

When she pulls back, he’s eyeing her like she’s something he’s never seen before.

“What?”

His gaze flicks away. His lashes aren’t particularly long, but they veil his eyes very effectively. And Kate suddenly feels like an idiot, sitting on his lap, kissing him, trying to seduce him. He’s got other things on his mind – saving the human race, for instance – and all she wants is sex?

She flushes, hot and humiliated, but when she starts to climb off, his grip tightens around her. “Wait, no. Jesus, Kate. That’s not... I’m just... I wasn’t expecting...this.”

“I’m sorry.” Scraping together the remnants of her dignity, Kate puts her hands in her lap. “I don’t know what came over—”

His mouth silences her apology – a rough kiss, unpractised, but with a gentleness in it, too. And hungry enough to make it clear he’s not saying no.

John takes the lead, and she lets him this time. Sometimes she likes being in control, but right now Kate wants to be needed. And he needs her as she needs him – the reminder of humanity and fragility, of all the things the machines may never understand, and even if they could understand, couldn’t do anyway. The reminder that they’re in this together, whatever else they’ve lost and whatever they’re going to lose in the coming days.

And the reminder that they’re fighting for the future of the human race when he pauses, his fingers flexing on her hips, abruptly resisting possession.

“I don’t... We don’t have...protection...”

“I have an implant. It’s good for another six months.” And she takes him, now with no resistance.

He’s not skilled, and he doesn’t know what works for her, but he’s considerate and willing to learn. He’s not the only one in this, and her pleasure matters to him.

“Kate,” he murmurs against her throat when she climaxes. And, “Oh, Kate,” again when he comes.

Afterwards, breathless, Kate rests her cheek against his temple as his breath huffs against her throat, and wonders that she ever thought John had no comfort in him.


End file.
